Just a Dream
by norapotter1586
Summary: Did you ever wonder how James and Lily really died? Also, in chapter 4, Harry' life continues after GoF.
1. Premonitions

Just a Dream  
  
Prologue  
  
Chapter 1  
  
  
  
Harry smiled in his sleep. Lily watched him carefully; keeping his small body snuggled close between herself and her husband, James. She moved her gaze from her son, who was almost a year old, and silently traced James' jaw line with her finger. It was always this way with Lily; she was more often then not the last to sleep. Everyone knew that, unlike the intuitive James, divination was not one of her strong points. Despite that fact, Lily felt an almost irrepressible urge to cherish every laugh, every smile, and any memories that were made.  
  
Harry looks so much like James, she thought. Lily remembered the almost indescribable joy she had felt the first time she had held Harry in her arms, after carrying him as a part of her for nine months. She loved him so much, and had cried in happiness many times during the pregnancy, including the first time he kicked. She had touched her stomach, settled down into a chair with a glowing smile on her face, and tears had gathered in her eyes. Lily still could not overcome the fact that she had created something so beautiful with the love of her life.  
  
Again her attention switched to her husband. She wondered if he knew how many times she touched his handsome face as he slept. She knew every line and curve of his face, the tiny scar on the left side of his chin, and the way his dark eyes crinkled whenever he laughed. She loved him with every drop of blood that beat in her veins. Nothing bad can ever happen to us, she thought as she dozed off.  
  
Lily's eyes snapped open. "James!" she gasped.  
  
The early morning light drifted through the window in hazy rays. James' voice came from the end of the bed. "I'm right here, love. What is it?"  
  
Lily's heart thumped an almost painful beat in her chest. "Oh, thank God," she sighed, "I had the most awful dream," she said, gazing at him.  
  
"Do you want to tell me about it?" He slipped light blue robes on and combed his unruly hair, looking in the mirror close to the end of the bed. When he had finished, he glanced worriedly at Lily.  
  
She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest in a childish and protective gesture. "He was here. He burst in the room, waving his wand about, and pushed us into a corner of the room. He killed you, and the he tried to take Harry's life as well." She rested her face in her hands. "Then he killed me. It was the particular horrid sort of nightmare where it seems as though you're watching yourself. After he killed me, the wretch pointed his wand at Harry and said in a totally calm voice, 'Avada Kedavra.' He almost sounded bored. A blinding green light came out of his wand that even looked evil, but Harry didn't die. An almost holy white light surrounded him, and then Voldemort screamed. That's when I woke up. I could see our dead bodies," She sobbed, "and it looked like you were holding my hand!" At this point, Lily cried silently, yet the tears racked her slim body.  
  
James went to her and wrapped his arms around her. He whispered soothingly, "It's all right, it was just a dream, baby, just a dream."  
  
Lily shifted to look into his eyes, smoothing his wild black hair. "But that's the problem! It seemed so real, it almost felt.like a- a vision. or something." Her jade eyes again brimmed with tears.  
  
Harry, who through all this had been sleeping peacefully next to her (as he'd insisted the night before), stirred. He opened his astonishingly green eyes and looked at Lily. He saw her tears and patted her cheek. "No cwy," he said.  
  
James and Lily exchanged amused glances. Lily wiped her face and hugged Harry tightly. James picked Harry up and swung him around. "What d'you say we get you some clean robes?" Harry giggled as his daddy carried him out of the room.  
  
Lily rose, a little less worried about her dream. She pulled on dark turquoise robes and glanced in the mirror. Her reflection giggled and twirled. "How childish!" Lily said to her reflection, grinning.  
  
Lily went into the kitchen and started making breakfast as James clothed and bathed Harry. She twirled her wand and set everything to cooking. The smell of food brought her men into the kitchen, sniffing and rubbing their hands together. James inhaled deeply and said, "What's this I smell?"  
  
"Just breakfast, you great dolt." Lily smiled sweetly.  
  
"You're still the woman I married," James sighed amusedly.  
  
As Lily cleaned up the breakfast dishes with a flick of her willowy wand, she chatted with Harry. "Do you know what tomorrow is, Harry?"  
  
"Wot?" Harry asked, concentrating on a butterfly on the windowsill.  
  
"Tomorrow," Lily paused for effect, "is your birthday! You'll be one year old."  
  
"One?"  
  
"One whole year!" Lily giggled, still a little girl at heart, and smoothed back Harry's wild, jet black hair. "And we're going to have a party."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next morning, James awoke to Lily gently touching his face and smiling. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his chin gently. He pulled her to him tightly and whispered, "I couldn't wake up to anything more enchanting than your beautiful green eyes."  
  
Lily grinned, rolled her eyes. "Ah, and you're always one with the words, you are."  
  
"No words can describe the way I love thee, milady," James breathed teasingly.  
  
Lily tapped him on the nose. "Can thee express thyself in any other way, milord?" She laughed.  
  
"Come now dear, you don't want our birthday boy to catch us 'at it,' d'you?"  
  
Lily sighed melodramatically. "Where's a time-turner necklace when I need one?" 


	2. Happy Birthday

Well, here's Chapter 2; I hope y'all like it! Please read/review…  
  
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Harry, happy birthday to you!" sang the partygoers gathered in James and Lily's garden. Assembled were, of course, James and Lily, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and the Wilsons, a young couple with a 3-year-old named Elise.  
  
Harry blew out the candles on his cake. He grinned flirtatiously at Elise, red-cheeked from the effort of blowing out the candles.  
  
Sirius chuckled, watching the two little kids flirt. He said dryly to Lily, "Looks like you're going to have a regular ladies' man on your hands."  
  
Lily smacked her forehead and pretended to faint into James's arms. "God preserve us from the ladies' men," she teased and winked at James. Peter Pettigrew snorted. Lily raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything. Peter seemed out of place tonight, as everyone else was easygoing and he seemed to be tense and argumentative.  
  
Sirius was another story, however. He was in a jolly mood, and seemed quite chuffed to be with the girl he'd brought. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She blushed a rosy pink and tried not to look too pleased. "Didn't I tell you they're the most sickeningly cute couple, Leah?" said Sirius playfully.  
  
Leah tilted her head, subtly flirtatious, and said, "They are cute, aren't they?"  
  
James and Lily exchanged a glance, knowing full well that Sirius was going to knock the poor girl's socks off. Lily, fighting a laugh, asked, "How did you and Sirius meet?"  
  
Sirius let loose a trademark grin. "I was walking in to talk to James on his lunch break about a month ago, and I was knocked flat by Leah here."  
  
James snorted. "Speaking of ladies' men…"  
  
"Hey!" Sirius pretended to be offended. "I meant it quite literally."  
  
Leah, laughing and yet again blushing, chuckled, "Yes, it's true."  
  
The Wilsons, who has up until then been playing with Harry and Elise, listened with growing amusement. Dawn Wilson prodded amusedly, "Go on!"  
  
"Well I was leaving to get lunch for myself and a few other people at work, and I walked right into Sirius here. He caught the food, as well as myself, and we struck up a bit of a conversation. We ended eating at Luigi's that night." Luigi Spinelli was an Italian wizard who had always wanted to have his own restaurant in England. He built a small restaurant, and as it gained popularity and notoriety, added rooms onto it.  
  
Dawn and Justin chuckled. Justin affirmed, "Many a romance has bloomed at Luigi's. The first time Dawn and went out, we ate there. It's quite romantic, isn't it?"  
  
"Quite," chuckled Leah.  
  
Harry's birthday festivities carried into the late afternoon, whereupon the Wilsons, Justin carrying a drowsy Elise, made their departure. Sirius and Leah left shortly after, making polite excuses ("It's getting to be late; I've got gobs of paperwork"), but it was obvious by the warm embrace shared by the two at the Potters' garden gate that paperwork wasn't standing out in either of their minds.  
  
Not too long after the partygoers had made their ways home, Peter last to leave, disapparating with a casual tip of his tattered hat, Harry was escorted to his room by his sleepy parents. He gave each parent a perfunctory goodnight kiss punctuated frequently by enormous yawns, and slipped into the land of dreams as soon as his downy, raven-haired head touched his pillow.  
  
James took Lily's hand as they slipped out of Harry's room, smiling quietly in the manner that only young parents have. As they walked down the stairs and into their moonlit room, James gently pulled Lily into his arms and kissed her. He led her to their bed and fell asleep in her arms as if he'd rather do nothing else.  
  
But he had a dream. He shifted uncomfortably as a barrage of images hit him like a relentless series of brick walls. The first thing he saw was a radiant Lily, her belly round like the full moon. He assumed it was Harry whom occupied her belly, but the next thing he saw made him doubt that. He saw himself, Lily, and Harry looking joyfully into a lacy bassinet. He started to see a little girl with Lily's red hair sitting by Harry, but a flash of violent jade light ripped him from the dream. He woke up gasping. Lily had a hand on his face, whispering concernedly, "James, baby, wake up, oh God, please wake up."  
  
James groaned. "I'm awake, Lily."  
  
"D'you want to talk about your dream?" Lily knew that James often perceived what might happen in the future, and often wouldn't speak of it.  
  
James considered it. "I'm not sure what it means. All I saw was Harry playing with another, smaller girl." He refrained from telling her that he'd seen her pregnant. Lily had had a difficult time with Harry, and he didn't want to concern her. "Then there was a flash of light and I woke up."  
  
Lily looked up, startled. "Did you say light? What color was it?"  
  
James raised an eyebrow, wondering what that had to do with anything. "The light? It was green…" The words died on his lips. Voldemort. "Oh no… it can't be."  
  
Lily stared out the window, stricken. "If he comes, he won't take you from me. He won't take either of you, I won't allow it."  
  
James growled, "No! Don't you give up life because of me. I won't allow it," he said, his voice softening as he repeated her heartfelt words. "We'll find a way, darling." 


	3. Even Walls Fall Down

Hey, wow, I updated! Believe it or not. ;) Thanks to all those that reviewed; without you, I don't know what I would do! Well, anyway: here is the climactic Chapter 3 of Just a Dream. Please r/r, flame if you want. I like diversity.  
  
LANGUAGE WARNING: some explicit language later in the story  
  
Disclaimer: I haven't had one before, so I'll have one now. I don't own anyone you recognize, anyone you don't I do. J.K. Rowling owns most of these wonderful characters. I own the plot.  
  
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/ */*/*  
  
On a cool but unusually sunny day nearing close to Halloween, James took a day off work to spend time with Lily and Harry. He felt the growing urgency (much of it from haunting dreams and a prickly feeling about his neck) as much as Lily did to live and love and spend each day as if it was his last, because it damn well could be.  
  
James wasn't altogether positive that Lily was carrying their second child, but he was telling her of his predictions tonight, regardless. James simply felt he was running out of time. He slammed the bathroom medicine cabinet shut with a resounding crack, and caught a glance of his fiercely angered expression immediately before the mirror shattered irreparably, even by magic, into the sink. "Damn!" James shouted. A silly superstition forced itself into his mind. "Seven years' bad luck…" he muttered, "if I have that long."  
  
Meanwhile, Lily was in the den, reading Harry a book. She heard the slam, the breaking glass, and James' curse quite clearly. She set down the hardcover storybook and said gently, "Harry, love, I'll be right back."  
  
As she walked past the front door on the way to the W. C., to reassure herself of James' safety, her broom fell forward and whacked the floor, bouncing several times. Considering the state she was in, Lily jumped, and couldn't help but remember her mother's one superstition. "Broom fell, company's coming," she murmured, as if in a trance. "Oh, bullocks."  
  
James stepped out of the 'loo to get a dustpan and noticed Lily standing there, staring at her broom as if it had sprouted branches. "I broke the mirror," he said numbly.  
  
She glanced up; still looking a little dazed. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," he assured her. "What's wrong with your broom?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. I… it fell, and I thought of this daft superstition my mum used to say. 'Broom fell, company's coming,'" she recited.  
  
"Seven years' bad luck," James repeated wryly. "Oh, why are we doing this to ourselves?"  
  
Lily blinked. "I don't know."  
  
James and Lily stood in the hall in each other's shaking arms for a few moments, the light wind from an open window rustling their hair, before going back into the den. Harry, holding his book, cautiously toddled into the hallway and said quietly, "Mum? Dad?"  
  
Lily pulled away from James and lifted the little boy onto her hip and hugged him. "We're fine, sweetheart. Daddy just had an accident with the mirror, but he's perfectly fine, see?" Lily smiled, as Harry suddenly looked as relieved as he possibly could.  
  
James brushed Harry's hair, remarkably similar to his own, from his smooth forehead. "What say we pack a picnic lunch and go to the park?"  
  
Harry's grin was as good as an answer. Lily set him back down and told him to go into the kitchen. She righted the fallen broom. "Piece of crap," she muttered.  
  
James, carrying a dustpan full of glimmering shards of mirror and a tan wicker picnic basket into the kitchen, smiled sadly at Lily and remarked, "It must be easier for Muggles, huh. They don't have to deal with the future until it's the past."  
  
Lily took the dustpan and picnic basket from him, setting them on the counter. She leaned into the comfort and strength of his arms and whispered, "I don't want to die."  
  
Despite the fact that Lily and James felt much more that the usual weak premonitions about their fates, they managed to have an enjoyable time at the park. They played with Harry on the swings and in the sandbox, and ate their lunch on a blanket, ignoring the wooden picnic tables adjacent. Lily and James took the time to enjoy the innocence and bubbly personality of their child for as long as they could.  
  
Later that night, when Harry was in bed, James took Lily's hand and guided her to the den. She sat down, wondering what on earth he was planning on doing.  
  
James seated himself with the fluid grace that Lily loved so much about him, and said, "We've both been having visions, dreams premonitions, or whatever you want to call them about- well, about things. However, the other night when I had that dream, there was more to it than I told you." Abruptly, he got up and locked the front door. Sitting back down, he continued. "I saw you, pregnant. I saw a baby in a lacy bassinet, and Harry playing with a red-haired little girl. Lily, darling, I believe-"  
  
Lily shivered violently and rubbed the back of her neck. "Sorry, go on."  
  
James coughed lightly. He whispered, "Lily, my love, I think- no, I know you're carrying our second child."  
  
Lily's face lit up. She opened her mouth to reply. The tightly locked door flew open and smashed into the wall, the window shattering in eerie similarity to the bathroom mirror. A chilling, foul wind burst in and screamed about the room, knocking over pictures and candles. A tall, dark figure completely enshrouded in a cloak stepped into the house.  
  
Lily screamed. "No!" She sprinted towards the stairs, James following close behind. The man laughed shrilly, in close, lackadaisical pursuit, not bothering to stop them. He stepped lightly up the stairs, yet every footfall sounded like a textbook slamming on the floor in a quiet classroom.  
  
James and Lily stood in front of Harry's bedroom door, hands clasped tightly. Voldemort laughed derisively, removing his wand from his cloak's sleeve sinisterly. "You may be powerful, kids, but no one can stop me! Lily, Lily, so codependent. What are you going to do when Jamesy-boy isn't there for you to hang on?"  
  
"Screw you!" Lily's green eyes flashed with righteous power, and Voldemort realized his cloak was burning rapidly with blue flames of fire licking up the sides. He quickly extinguished it, roaring in anger and pain.  
  
"You'll pay for that, you skinny wench!" He flicked his wand at James, shrieking, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" A deafening roar rushed through the room, accompanied by an incapacitating green flash. James' body buckled like a rag doll's and fell to the ground, his life no more.  
  
"Oh, James!" Lily wailed, dropping to her knees. She began to pray. "Hear my words, oh Lord, listen to my sighing. Hear my cry for help, my king, my God. To you I pray, oh Lord…" Voldemort watched her grief, pleased. She wiped her tearstained face, and to his surprise, stood again. "All right, you demon, kill me. That's what you came here to do, right?"  
  
Voldemort narrowed his snake-like eyes. "What do you know about what I came here to do? Maybe I'll just kill 'ickle Harry first and watch you suffer some more. It's quite entertaining," Voldemort replied in a scratchy voice, trying and failing miserably to sound sweet.  
  
"I know more than you may think, Tom," Lily replied tiredly.  
  
Voldemort growled. "Stop calling me Tom. So you think you're a great little divinator? Did you see me kill your baby boy?" The dark lord stepped forward menacingly.  
  
"No," Lily switched from intimidation to pleading, "Please, no. Don't kill him, he's barely lived." Her eyes widened as he began to wake up. "Just get it over with!" Lily pleaded.  
  
Voldemort giggled wretchedly. "What will you give me?"  
  
Lily's eyes hardened. "You like being on fire, Tom? Why won't you just kill me and get the hell out of here?"  
  
Voldemort explained, patronizing, "Because then I won't have the satisfaction of seeing you see your firstborn dead. Now, kindly get the fuck out of my way, I have other things to do tonight."  
  
Lily didn't even budge. "How about no."  
  
Voldemort sighed. "Must you be so difficult? Repulsior!" Lily flew into the wall, her bones breaking and plaster falling. Harry's eye's jerked open, although he wasn't truly awake yet. "Now, AVADA KEDAVRA," cried the heartless wraith for the second time that night.  
  
But as he shouted the forbidden words that boded death for those in its path, the wounded Lily threw her body in front of Harry's crib. She shrieked, "Nooo-" but her cry of despair was cut short. Before she hit the ground, Lily Potter was dead.  
  
Voldemort frowned. "What a killjoy your mother was!" He cooed to the wakening Harry. "Sorry sport, but you're next."  
  
Voldemort began to say the incantation again, but the evil words turned into a primitive howl of agony as a surreal white light surrounded Harry. The spell left a bloody, lightning-shaped gash on the young boy's head, but he did not die. Meanwhile, Voldemort was in a much worse predicament. His body melted into a fine, gray ash, which blew into the air and wafted through the ceiling. An almost inaudible, animal wail shivered though the humid air like a chandelier in an earthquake.  
  
Two souls holding hands floated above a hopelessly confused, crying baby in a nice neighborhood somewhere in England. A legacy began in those moments of despair. 


	4. Friends in Unexpected Places

Just a Dream  
  
Chapter 4  
  
"Friends in Unexpected Places" ************************************ Just so you know, the first three chapters of this story were sort of a prologue. This picks up as Harry is going back to the Dursley's after the end of his fourth year. Disclaimer: Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and Scholastic own everything but my plot and the characters (in previous chapters, the Wilsons and Leah, and in this chapter, Amada Cooper) that you don't immediately recognize. Please read/review and I'll return the favor. Enjoy! ************************************  
  
  
  
Harry silently rode home from the train station in the Dursley's fancy new s.u.v. Uncle Vernon drove, Aunt Petunia perched to his left in the passenger seat like a trained weasel, and Dudley took up three-fourths of the backseat. Harry sat squished against the armrest built into the door, fervently hoping that the door wasn't going to fly open and suck him out into the busy street.  
  
"This is a lovely car, Uncle Vernon, when did you get it?" Harry was too tired to be polite for very long, due to the horrible events at the end of the year, but he doubted he had the energy to match his relatives' spite either.  
  
"Shut up, you scrawny freak," Dudley snarled, "it's none of your business!"  
  
"No, it most certainly is not," Vernon asserted, "So don't ask questions!" Suddenly his attention was diverted to the road. "Damn idiot!" He shouted at an elderly man crossing the street.  
  
Harry wondered when his Muggle relatives had decided to stop being deathly afraid of him. He didn't have a shred of guilt in his heart about the Sirius business; it been nice to not be ignored or insulted constantly.  
  
Hedwig hooted softly. Her cage was jammed on the floorboard between the back of Aunt Petunia's seat and Harry's legs. "Make that wretched thing stop hooting!" Her shrill voice raised goosebumps along Harry's neck. He sighed resignedly, thinking, "So. it's going to be like this."  
  
"If we weren't going so fast, she wouldn't be hooting. She's scared," he explained patiently.  
  
Vernon swung the large vehicle around a sharp turn. Hedwig rustled her long wings and squawked, alarmed. "Shut up, Hedwig," Harry whispered pleadingly as Vernon's increasingly purple face glared at him in the reflection of the rearview mirror. "That bird." his voice blasted warningly.  
  
"Sorry," Harry lied. He already missed Hogwarts, and he wasn't even back yet. He'd take Hogwarts, with Malfoy, Snape, and all that comes with it over Privet and the Dursleys in a millisecond.  
  
He sat in silence the rest of the nerve-wracking ride home, stroking Hegwig's wings through the slats of her battered cage.  
  
Vernon pulled into the drive in front of the perfectly normal-looking 4 Privet Drive. He, Petunia and Dudley got out of the tank-like vehicle (some struggling more than others did), not bothering to help Harry with his massive trunk or Hedwig's birdcage. Harry smiled slightly, glad that he had thought to place a particularly long-lasting weightless charm on his trunk before leaving Hogwarts, for if he wanted to continue to attend Hogwarts, he thought it best he follow the no-magic-over-the-holiday rule.  
  
Harry leaned over the front seat to push the trunk-release (a/n: boot release if you're British?) button. The back end of the car rose with a snap continuing in one fluid motion, and Hedwig stirred slightly, her nerves already on end to an extent Harry wasn't sure was healthy.  
  
He opened the door and put Hedwig's cage on the pavement. He walked to the back of the car and easily hefted his trunk on one shoulder. He picked up Hedwig's cage in his free hand and began to walk inside.  
  
"Is that an *owl*?!" Someone, most likely female, according to the timbre of the voice, inquired most curiously.  
  
Harry turned about slowly, feeling bulky from his luggage. A woman Harry found most attractive at first glance, in her early 20's most likely, stood in the next yard. "She's a snowy owl," Harry confirmed cautiously.  
  
"She's beautiful," the woman breathed. "I'm your new neighbor. My name is Amada Cooper. What may I call you?"  
  
Harry smiled; surprised to find himself disarmed by the friendly Muggle. "My name's Harry Potter," he said, knowing it would mean nothing to her.  
  
She smiled. "It's lovely to meet you, Harry. You're Vernon and Petunia's nephew, correct?"  
  
Harry studied her face, surprised. "How- how did you know?"  
  
She smiled mysteriously. "I have my ways. Do you need some help with those?"  
  
At that moment, Petunia chose to rush outside. "Oh, hello! Are you the new neighbor? It's absolutely fabulous to meet you!" Petunia gushed.  
  
Amada smiled back, but Harry noticed it seemed to be a somewhat lower wattage smile than he'd just received. "Nice to meet you too. I was just helping Harry with his things-"  
  
"Oh, he doesn't need any help! He's a strong boy!" Petunia smacked Harry on the back soundly, causing him to jar Hedwig's cage, thereby causing Hedwig to hoot rather indignantly.  
  
"I'll just. take her inside," Harry said, walking into the house and shutting the screen door.  
  
"Was the boy bothering you?" Petunia inquired neurotically.  
  
Amada raised an eyebrow. "Hardly. Do send Harry over after he's done unpacking, please. I'd like to continue my conversation with him," Amada said, quietly persuasive.  
  
Petunia nodded her head. "Of course," she agreed readily. If she were to refuse, well, then there would be talk. "Do you want my son, Dudley, over as well? I'm sure he'd love to meet our newest neighbor."  
  
"Perhaps tomorrow," she said, walking back into her yard. "Thanks again for letting Harry over."  
  
**********************  
  
"HARRY!" Petunia shrieked. "If you do any of your- your. you know, you will never set foot in this house again!"  
  
'As if that would be a bad thing?' Harry thought. "I won't, Aunt Petunia." Harry walked out the door.  
  
  
  
As Harry traveled over the adjoining lawns, he wondered what was different about this woman. She had to be a Muggle, but Harry wondered if maybe she had some wizarding blood in her family. She was far too nice to be a straight-up Muggle.  
  
He reached up to ring the doorbell, and Amada opened the door before his finger touched the button. "Hello again," she said. She beckoned that he should step inside, and as he did, he looked about curiously. According to the gossip machine named Petunia, she'd just moved in three days ago, and as far as Harry could tell, she was already unpacked.  
  
He house was decorated beautifully in celestial décor, with stars and moons that glittered appealingly from the ceiling. Even the deep blue curtains glimmered with a dusky glow.  
  
"Would you like some tea?" Amada asked, walking in front of Harry into the kitchen.  
  
Harry gaped openly as she walked into the kitchen. Deep blue marble tables and counters shimmered, as if by a clever charm.  
  
Harry, hiding a smile, decided to play the fool. "How- how did you make the marble shine like that?"  
  
Amada grinned, flexing one of her well-toned biceps. "A little elbow grease will make anything shine!" She paused, looking thoughtful. "The marble does shine like magic, I see why you asked. I bought it from a mysterious little man who runs a furniture and antique shop near London."  
  
Deciding to steer clear of anything related to magic, Harry smiled politely and seated himself at her large kitchen table. As Amada began to prepare tea (the Muggle way), Harry willed his eyes to wander freely around the cozy kitchen, but they kept going back to Amada. She was just a few inches taller than he was, with long, auburn hair and brown eyes. She couldn't have been more than 20. "Have you been to college?" Harry asked.  
  
She turned her head, flipping her hair over her shoulder in a way that wasn't snotty in the least. "I've just gotten my teaching degree. I'll be teaching secondary school students this fall." She sat, waiting for the teakettle to whistle.  
  
Harry couldn't help asking. "So that would make you. 21 or 22?"  
  
"22, just turned this May. Are you 15 or 16?"  
  
Harry tried to control a blush creeping up his face. "14. I'll turn 15 in July."  
  
"Oh, I see. What school do you go to?" Amada stood up, and a second later, the teakettle began to whistle shrilly.  
  
Harry sighed, relieved. The teapot had saved him from having to answer that particular sticky question. He couldn't exactly tell her he went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but he really didn't want to tell her he went to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.  
  
Amada reached into her high cupboard for two teacups and platters, causing her shirt to lift and expose several inches of her tan stomach. Consequently, Harry blushed furiously, looking away quickly and cursing himself for looking in the first place. Secretly he wanted to look again.  
  
"Ah, here we go," Amada sighed, setting down their teacups and filling them with the fragrant, steaming tea. "Where were we?"  
  
Harry lied, "Ah- I don't remember." He cleared his throat, realizing how bad a liar he was, and said, "Why did you decide to teach? It seems to me that you have a knack for interior design."  
  
Amada smiled, allowing herself to feel a bit flattered by the handsome teenager. She took a sip of tea and replied, "Well, I believe it's just with stars I get inspired, but thank you!" She stared off into the distance, thinking of how she desired to teach. "I just, well, I guess I feel like I have to effect the universe in some way, and teaching seemed as good a way as any."  
  
"You've got a pretty good outlook on life," Harry said lightly, inwardly spellbound. He tried to take a sip of tea, but realized his cup was empty. "I'd better go," Harry said, "I don't want to bother you any longer. Thanks for the tea."  
  
Amada laughed, taking his cup. "You're hardly a bother, but you probably should go. Your aunt looks like the kind of person who'll have chores backed up to next Tuesday by the time you get home." A cat leapt onto the cobalt-hued marble table. "Stella! You horrible cat!" exclaimed Amada, petting the feline under her black and white chin.  
  
Harry smiled bemusedly. "You're exactly right about Aunt Petunia, you must be a good judge of character." He stroked the cat's fur as Amada smiled wickedly.  
  
"How could she not be horrible with a name like that?"  
  
Harry laughed in astonishment. "Right again. In any case, I'm supposed to ask when you'd like Dudley to come over." He grimaced inwardly, having a mental image of Dudley tripping over the slender cat, Stella, and falling on the marble and wood table, smashing in to tidbits, and finally falling through the floor into the basement.  
  
"Oh dear, I'll need to go shopping before Dudley comes over, I'm afraid. All I've got left in the cupboard right now is tea, eggs, and catsup."  
  
"You'd best buy a lot, if you intend to have my cousin over. He'll eat your tea bags dipped in catsup and wash it down with the eggs if you let him," Harry said, showing the lovely Muggle his sarcastic side, which only Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid saw regularly. He smiled inwardly, realizing he'd made a new (very pretty, too, a voice in his head said) friend. He watched said new friend double over, shaking with silent laughter punctuated by the occasional squeak.  
  
"Harry, oh dear Harry, you're a hoot! You'd best get home before the family changes the locks on you," she teased.  
  
"You know, they tried that once, but somehow I still got in," Harry teased back. He walked behind her to the front door and shook her hand gently. "It was great to meet you, Amada," he said, feeling shy again.  
  
"Likewise," Amada said as he walked out the door. ***********************  
  
Harry closed the front door behind him silently. If he made it up the stairs and to his room without making a whole lot of noise, he could escape the wrath of Petunia. He leapt over the first two steps, which had always been creaky, and sprinted to his room best he could in Dudley's old clothes. They were far too wide, but they were beginning to fit him height wise. In any case, he could perform a Shrinking Charm on them once he got back to Hogwarts. Ah, Hogwarts.  
  
He opened Hedwig's cage and let her perch on his narrow windowsill. He pulled some parchment and a quill out of his trunk, sat down, adjusting his glasses, and began writing a letter to Ron.  
  
Ron- Hello from hell. The relatives have unfortunately gotten over their fear of me, with no apparent reason for this change. The only tolerable thing here is our new neighbor, Amada Cooper. I'd swear she was a witch if I didn't know better. She had me over for tea, and she opened the door before I even rang the bell; she has her house decorated in moons, suns, and stars. She has a black and white cat named Stella. If she isn't a witch, which I'm pretty sure she isn't, she must have wizarding blood. I wonder how they missed her at Hogwarts if she does, in fact, have wizard blood.  
  
Anyway, when are you going to bail me out of here? I can't wait to be at your house, it's so much more fun. Will Hermione be coming this summer? Harry grinned, knowing full well the goings-on with those two.  
  
Write back soon! Your friend (Duh)- Harry  
  
Harry folded up the piece of parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg. "Don't leave yet, I've still got to write a letter to Hermione." He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment for Hermione's letter.  
  
Hermione-  
  
How goes your summer? I hope you're having fun. Has Viktor visited you yet? I'd like to talk Quidditch with that boy someday; he's absolutely brilliant on a broomstick.  
  
Things at home aren't the best, but we've a new neighbor that seems like she'll be a good friend. Harry paused, thinking about how to phrase his feelings.  
  
Hermione, I don't want to bring you down, but I hope the Weasley's rescue me without much ado. Petunia, Vernon, and especially Dudley are treating me like something smelly on their shoes, and I've been having dreams. I'm sure you can guess what about. Harry didn't feel like going into detail, concerning the haunting remembrances of that fateful night of the final task his dreams were dragging up.  
  
Hope to see you at the Weasley's! Soon- Harry  
  
Harry tied Hermione's letter to Hedwig, letting her nuzzle him before swooping out the window. He sighed and fell back on his bed, a gentle breeze from the window tousling his hair a bit. He took off his glasses, setting them on his desk. He was so tired, yet afraid to sleep for dreaming. Slowly he drifted off.  
  
Harry woke up. He wasn't in his bed at the Dursley's, therefore it took him a minute to figure out where he was. Slowly he realized he was in his bed at Hogwarts- but none of the other beds looked occupied. They were all empty.  
  
Suddenly Harry doubled over in pain from his scar. Voldemort stood in the doorway to his dormitory, his emaciated body shrouded by ripped black robes. His foul mouth opened, and he spoke. "Hello, Harry. We meet again." *****************************  
  
  
  
  
  
A/n: Ha ha. I did my first cliffhanger ever. I'm not a cliffhanger virgin anymore!! Woo-hoo! Anyway. please review. It's all that keeps me going, besides the insane impatience while waiting for the 5th book to come out. You can tell me if it sucks, I'll only cry for a little while. .Just kidding. Please, review with all honesty, but try to be kind. I'm getting fond of this ficlet. ******************************** 


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